Dear Carolina

by Kristy W Harvey

  “Jodi.” Khaki exhaled, all outta breath. Soon as I heard her, all frantic, I got to thinking about SIDS and babies getting dropped and all kinds a’ awful mess.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Well . . .” Khaki’s voice was all speeding and swerving like a car on the freeway. “Graham and I were wondering if you had given any thought to having Ricky sign away his rights to Carolina.”

  “Um. Khaki, I don’t have one dern clue what that means.” I wrapped the cord around my finger and bit my bottom lip.

  “Oh, well, of course you don’t,” Khaki said back. “You’re nineteen. How would you know?”

  I looked out the window and saw Buddy sitting right there on the porch. And, even though I was right nervous, I felt my mouth smiling.

  Everything okay? he mouthed. I nodded. ’Cause, looking at him looking at me, I sorta felt like maybe it was.

  Khaki was still running on. “Fathers have a legal right to their children whether they’re a part of their lives or not, which means he can come back any time—even if it’s fifteen years from now and he hasn’t so much as sent her a birthday card—and try to fight for his rights to custody.”

  I gasped. “But no court in near their right mind would give Ricky my baby!”

  Khaki didn’t say nothing back. That pounding, panicking steel drum in my brain got to going again. She said, “Let’s get him to sign his rights away and then you won’t have to worry about it.”

  I shouldn’t even tell you this, but I wasn’t sure. When I closed my eyes real tight, laying in bed at night, I could still think that Ricky was gonna come back, clean up, apologize, and we were gonna be that family I had always wanted. Lord in heaven knows women are ridiculous fools when it comes to love. The man had damn near tried to kill me, and I was still giving him second chances in my mind. But then I got to thinkin’: What if he’d tried to take you that night? What if I didn’t knock him out good and he got my girl? The pounding stopped, and I got real brave. Weren’t no choice.

  “What do I got to do?” I asked.

  “Not one thing but sit that sweet fanny in a rocking chair and breathe and relax and get feeling better.” She paused. “Well, and sign a couple of papers. And Carolina is doing great and Graham or I are here with her every minute, so don’t worry one second about her either.”

  That Khaki, she could always get me believin’ that it was all gonna be okay. You know what? I think it’s ’cause she really believed it would be.

  I walked out to the front porch and sat down real close beside Buddy, realizing I was fightin’ right hard not to sit down square in his lap and put my head on his shoulder. Somehow I felt like a pair a’ strong arms could really turn things around.

  “So what was that all about?” he asked, looking like he was on the verge of a nap.

  “Something about Ricky signing his rights away.”

  Buddy laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  He patted my hand. “That just means that poor old Ricky’s gonna have the piss scared outta him again by some private detective hired to track him down and manhandle him into signing a form saying he can’t get ahold of his child.”

  “Well, there ain’t no way I could afford that. What on earth would I do if I didn’t have Graham and Khaki raisin’ me?” I smiled.

  Buddy smiled back and shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said, “but they’re about the finest people.” Then he took my hand and squeezed it. “You know what I do know?”

  “What?”

  “Getting to come down here with you is the best week’s work I’ve ever done.” He winked, kinda flirtatious like.

  I could feel my cheeks getting all hot and red. “You’re probably just thanking the Lord you hadn’t made as many mistakes as me.”

  Buddy leaned over, squeezed my hand again, and whispered, “We all make mistakes, darlin’. It’s how we learn.”

  Speaking of mistakes, my momma crossed my mind. She’d made ’em all. That fear took ahold a’ me, making my face feel all tingly and faintish, that maybe I’d be like my momma. “I don’t want Carolina to grow up like me.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t want her to ever get to wondering where her next meal is coming from. I don’t want her to be scared of her momma or grow up with a satellite dish as a babysitter and not one soul to help her with her homework.”

  It weren’t too hard for me to be right back in that dirty trailer, dishes piled in the sink, laundry piled all over the floor, the lights off and TV blaring, praying that Daddy would come home from work before Momma came stumbling in from wherever she been. My momma, she’d always say, “I’m doing my part on account of me bein’ on disability.” To this day I cain’t figure what her disability was—besides being a crazy bitch.

  “If I start drinkin’, won’t nobody know it. Carolina won’t be taken care of good. And then she’ll have to grow up like her screwed-up momma.”

  “We’re all afraid of something, Jodi.”

  “Nuh-uh. What are you afraid of?”

  “Being alone forever.”

  Most a’ the men I know, they’re more afraid of somebody tying them down than being alone. And that’s when I knew that me and Buddy, we was the same. He might be all Marlboro cowboy on the outside, but inside, he were dern near soft and scared as me.

  A boat come up right where we could see it good and floated on by. I wondered what that might be like, being away from everything and getting your head all clear in the fresh air and waves.

  “Do you know,” Buddy said, “that I ain’t never had an entire week’s vacation in my life?”

  I nodded. “Me neither.” I looked around at the matching teak furniture on the front porch and said, “And I ain’t never been to a place like this.” I got to sippin’ on my lemonade thinking how lemonade without vodka is near as useless as a tractor without a field. “I cain’t even figure on what it’d be like to have all this money.”

  Buddy looked at me for the first time in a while and shrugged. “Rich or poor, we all gotta find a way to be happy.”

  I cain’t imagine that having a bunch a’ money don’t make you happy. But, then, I always been poor. My whole life has been saving a penny here, living on right near nothing to get some money up in the bank. And every damn time some man like Ricky took it or some emergency come up, and I’d be startin’ all over. I sighed, feeling right sad and low thinking of my trailer back home and how I was gonna get to looking for work again and try to keep me and you fed. Maybe old Al’d forgive me now that I weren’t pregnant—long as I could keep from drinking on the job. It made me feel tired.

  “I ain’t disagreeing with you,” I finally said to Buddy, “but it sure seems nice not to have to worry ’bout where your next meal and rent check’s coming from all the time.” I looked down at my scraggly fingernails and could feel myself getting right mad. “Damn that Ricky!”

  If I coulda just got pregnant by a decent guy who had a job and woulda stuck by me and paid his child support like he’s s’posed to, then we’d be all right. And you, my poor girl growing up without no daddy, ’specially after how much I loved mine.

  “Don’t you think it’s sad for a little girl to grow up without a daddy?” I asked Buddy.

  He looked at me real hard in the eyes, making me want to turn away. “What are you really asking me, Jo?”

  I bit my lip and looked right out over the dark water. I couldn’t near believe what I was gonna say out loud, even though I hadn’t even said it to myself. “Is the best thing giving her up?” I whispered, feeling like I might get sick all over the porch. “How do you even find the right people for something like that?”

  Them goose bumps spread up the back a’ my neck as Buddy said, “Sooner or later, God drops the people we need the most right into our lives.”

  Khaki

  PUSH THE PLAY BU
TTON

  When you’ve been doing my job as long as I have, you become a master at avoiding the things that you don’t want to accept. When a client says she’d like to do her room in a red floral pattern, for example, I avoid hearing her until I’ve found another fabric she falls in love with. When a man tells me he won’t part with the green plaid sofa he’s had since college that reeks of dog and has duct tape on the corners, I avoid it until I’ve found something that’s such a great deal he can’t pass it up.

  So maybe that’s why it was so easy for me that last night we were in New York to avoid the truth that I was going to have to take you home the next day. Graham and I piled up pillows in our king bed to watch a family movie. Alex curled up beside me and promptly fell asleep, and, as soon as Graham gave you your bottle, you were out too.

  Graham reached over and took my hand, looking at the sleeping figures beside us. He smiled and winked at me, and, though I knew he would scold me, I said, “You have to admit that this feels right.”

  He shocked the living daylights out of me, saying, “You know, babydoll, I have to agree that it does.” He sighed and said, “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to have the baby you want.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not what I mean, really. It’s not only that I think we need another member of our family. It’s that, more and more, I think Carolina is who makes it feel complete.”

  He held you closer to him, staring into your dreamy face. “Khaki, one of the things I love about you is that you’ve got more spunk than a whole nest of baby chicks. And I know I can’t stop you from doing what you want any more than I can stop the winds from coming in hard and ruining the corn.” He leaned over and kissed me softly. “If you want to talk to Jodi, then that’s your prerogative. But don’t be all disappointed if she says no. And know that you’re probably going to offend the pants off her.”

  I felt like he was asking me to marry him all over again, that excited, out-of-breath, tingling-toed joy that people don’t get to experience enough. “You’re kidding.”

  He shrugged. “If you want to talk to her about it, you can. But you have to know that you’re running the risk of pushing her away.”

  I thought of Jodi, sweet, docile little thing, living in that trailer, scraping by God only knew how. She always seemed so easygoing and relaxed, but to push the play button on that bottle like she did, she certainly had some wounds to heal. I looked over at your peaceful face, perfect lips pursed with dreaming, downy hair illuminated by the sliver of light pouring in from the street. I couldn’t imagine how anyone, even if she wasn’t in her right mind, could give up something so undeniably perfect.

  “You do think it’s the right thing to do, right?” I asked. “I mean, that night after Ricky tried to attack her when she just kept saying, ‘I can’t do this, Khaki. I can’t do this . . . ’” I trailed off, tears of guilt filling my eyes. Because I had played a large part in your birth mother keeping you. I had been the one to convince her that she could do it. But I hadn’t known her alcoholism would take hold of her so strongly again. And I hadn’t realized that she would feel so all alone in the world or lose her job or be under such a monumental amount of stress.

  “Or maybe we could just take them both in and try to help her that way.”

  Graham shook his head. “I don’t think that’d work. It’s inconsistent for Carolina and it doesn’t help Jodi take control of her own life.” He smiled. “I hate to take a page from your daddy, but it seems like a temporary solution to a permanent problem.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  Graham said, “You know, she’s had such a hard life and she’s been through so much that I think I forget sometimes that the girl is only nineteen. I mean, at nineteen she’s responsible for a child, a house, a job, keeping them fed and the bills paid . . . She’s trying to stay sober on top of all of it.” He shrugged. “It’s so hard to even think about giving up your child, but, on some level, I have to wonder if this wasn’t God’s plan for our family all along.”

  I nodded and smiled through my tears. “I have no idea what she’s thinking, if she’s feeling strong and better and ready to do this. But if she’s that same girl she was a few nights ago, then I think us asking to adopt Carolina might come as somewhat of a relief.”

  I looked over at the television lights flickering on your and Alex’s cherubic faces. “We just have to remember that it makes sense to us,” Graham said, “but that doesn’t mean that it’s going to make sense to Jodi.”

  I raised my lip and whispered, “Do you think we can change her name?”

  Graham laughed. “No, we can’t change her name! I love it.”

  “You don’t think it’s weird? I mean, Carolina from North Carolina?”

  Graham raised his eyebrow.

  I sighed. “Well, maybe we could pronounce it Caroleena, you know, like Carolina Herrera.”

  Graham rolled his eyes and laughed again. “No way, babe.” He leaned over and kissed me. “I think it’s great,” he whispered, his forehead resting on mine. “Now I have two sweet Carolina girls.”

  I laughed too. “Well, we Carolina girls are the best in the world.” I took Graham’s hand, and rubbed the gold band that I hadn’t seen him without since the day we said those vows. “You do want more children, right?”

  Then he said something that, not too soon later, he might have lived to regret. “Oh, Khaki. As long as you’re their momma, I’d have a whole litter.”

  Jodi

  RUNNING YOUR KNEE INTO A TRAILER HITCH

  When it’s getting to be rhubarb season, and you’re thinking ’bout putting it up, you gotta do it quick as you can. Them first cuttings is the right time to freeze. Wait too late and all you got is a fibrous old stalk, tougher than nails.

  After I said out loud that maybe I oughta give you up, I thought I’d just give it a little time, figure out if I could make it through without drinking again. But I could just hear my grandma’s voice in my head, talkin’ about that rhubarb. And I knew if I was gonna do it, it had to be right soon.

  But deciding to give up your child is damn near like having to choose whether to cut off your hand or your foot. Don’t matter what you pick, you ain’t never gonna be whole again.

  I don’t know who said time heals all wounds, but they ain’t right. ’Cause don’t matter what I do, I won’t never get over giving you up. That’s why growin’ up is so hard. You can know right clear in your heart that you did the right thing. But that don’t keep it from hurtin’ like running your knee into a trailer hitch, all day, every day, over and over and over again.

  Buddy and me, we decided the last night of our trip we would be fancy and go out to dinner. His treat—seeing as how I had four bucks to my name. I was real sad that night, tryin’ to figure out what I was gonna do, but already knowing the right thing, like you always do. I wanted so bad to be the momma you needed—without drinkin’ myself into the common ground at the trailer park.

  So Buddy was just drivin’ along, and I said, “You know what, I don’t care what my daddy said. I’m gonna get on welfare, keep my baby, and pray real hard to stay clean and sober.”

  I don’t know if it were a coincidence or a sign from God but right in that same dag dern minute I saw a tiny girl, probably not more than eighteen months old, outta the corner a’ my eye. Her house was damn near falling down, weren’t nobody watching her, she weren’t wearing nothing but a diaper that looked like it hadn’t been changed since Bush was president, and she jumped right in a puddle of God only knows what. I was fixing to tell Buddy to do something, but he was already on the phone with the police.

  I was getting outta that truck, saying, “We cain’t just leave her there!”

  But the sheriff pulled up, and I got to crying instead a’ helping.

  “It’s okay,” Buddy said. “The police will handle it.”

  And that’s when I knew.

 
; I shook my head and through my tears said, “No, Buddy. That’s what I’m talking ’bout. That could be Carolina out there.”

  “What d’ya mean?” he asked, taking his hand off the steering wheel to rub my shoulder.

  “That momma in there, she’s probably all right when you get right down to it. But she ain’t got no clue her kid’s out here in the cold, worse’n a orphan ’cause she’s passed out.”

  Buddy waved his hand and said, “Naw. She probably just slipped out the door in a second like kids do.”

  That minute you was born and I saw that pretty face, I swore to heaven that I’d protect you forever. I couldn’t near imagine any momma not feeling that way. But I didn’t say any of that to Buddy because he wouldn’t have understood anyhow.

  “Oh, Jodi, just give it time. I’m sure it gets easier.”

  I stared out the windshield into the black night, the stars twinkling above my head, feeling as lost down here as I would up there. “That’s the thing,” I said. “Being a momma ain’t supposed to be about what’s easy.”

  Khaki

  THE EVIL WITCH

  My design column in House Beautiful was the first opportunity I had to elevate my career from ordinary to A-list. I’d grown up writing stories and reading magazines, and when my boss, Anna, mentioned that she could get me a meeting, I knew I could nail the interview and land myself on a national platform that would make my career. The night before that interview, I couldn’t sleep at all. I tossed and turned like a psychiatric patient wiggling free from a straitjacket knowing that this one event had the power to transform my life.

  That night was exactly, to a T, the same as the night before we came home from New York. I ran over and over in my head what I would say to your birth momma, how I would ask her for the ultimate gift, how I would convince her that it was the right thing without insinuating that she was a bad mother or an incapable one.